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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28186434">Paint Cans and Sneaking Out</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batshit_Bogs/pseuds/Batshit_Bogs'>Batshit_Bogs</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, DCU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(just a pinch tho), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Damian Wayne Has Friends, Damian Wayne is a Little Shit, Damian Wayne-centric, Fluff, Graffiti, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Parkour, Sneaking Out, fuck you DC they exist, i love him sm, kind of, some Dick &amp; Damian feels bc I can't not write them bonding</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:35:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,191</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28186434</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batshit_Bogs/pseuds/Batshit_Bogs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Shadowed corners were far more dangerous to Damian Wayne than to Robin, and he didn’t know what to expect as a civilian. </i>
</p><p>  <i>A year and half later and he’s grown used to it. </i></p><p>  <i>Now, the promise of anonymity on the streets is enough to make his steps lighter. The buildings no longer loom, they invite. The city is full of blank canvases ready for him to paint.</i></p><p>-</p><p>Damian has picked up a hobby that he's determined to keep a secret. It's a good thing he has friends to back him up.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Damian Wayne &amp; Colin Wilkes, Damian Wayne &amp; Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne &amp; OSKC (original street kid characters)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>367</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Paint Cans and Sneaking Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this 3 times! Three!! Times!!! Totally worth it, though, I absolutely love how this turned out. Special thanks to my dear friend for editing it, and everyone that wanted this to get written. It's over a week late, but hey, it's here</p><p>I don't think this fic needs any content warnings...that's a first. If it does, tho, lemme know what it needs</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sneaking out of Wayne manor, Damian has discovered, has become ludicrously easy. In the earlier days of his life in Gotham, any attempts to leave unnoticed were detected. Pennyworth or Father always seemed to be around the corner or outside the window, waiting to drag Damian back inside like a misbehaving kitten.</p><p> </p><p>Nowadays, Damian can freely come and go without getting caught. Sometimes he wonders if it’s because of the trust he’s fought to build with his family. Most times, he’s sure they don’t see him leave, because there’s no one around to notice.</p><p> </p><p>Father is too busy to give Damian the time of day. Todd rarely interacts with the family outside of patrol. Drake avoids Damian at all costs, not that Damian wants to interact with him anyway. Cain, Brown, and Thomas are often out on missions or are busy with school. Richard is in Blüdhaven, as always.</p><p> </p><p>Just a few years ago, Damian would have been feeling unbearably lonely--not that he’d ever admit that. At times, yes, he still feels lonely, but not terribly so. If anything, it’s a slight annoyance that can be easily fixed. </p><p> </p><p>After all, Damian has friends. He spends his school days with Maps and her friend group - though now he can say that they’re his friends, too. Though the first few times Damian spent time with the ‘Detective Club’ were awkward, he now fits into the group like he’s always been there. Damian also has Colin, Maya, Suren, and Goliath to interact with after school. The empty manor is less daunting knowing his friends are only a call away. </p><p> </p><p>And at night, well… that’s when things get <em> interesting. </em></p><p> </p><p>Gotham at night is always different than it is during the day. The appearance and the ambiance change, and even the air is different. The biggest change, however, is Gotham at night from the <em> ground</em>. From a civilian’s perspective.</p><p> </p><p>During Damian’s first few solo, non-caped outings into the city, the buildings seemed to loom. Every sudden noise was immediately categorized in his head as he struggled to keep from flinching. Shadowed corners were far more dangerous to Damian Wayne than to Robin, and he didn’t know what to expect as a civilian. </p><p> </p><p>A year and half later and he’s grown used to it. </p><p> </p><p>Now, the promise of anonymity on the streets is enough to make his steps lighter. The buildings no longer loom, they <em> invite </em>. The city is full of blank canvases ready for him to paint. </p><p> </p><p>That’s why the only thing Damian feels as he dresses for tonight’s excursion is <em> excitement.  </em></p><p> </p><p>It’s his usual fully black civilian night attire - knee-length shorts over leggings, shoes made specifically with parkour in mind, a t-shirt with a hoodie over it, a beanie, a face mask, a backpack, and elbow-length gloves with grippy palms. Of course, he doesn’t leave without adequate protection. Just because he’s used to Gotham at night doesn’t make him naive - he knows what happens to unsuspecting, unarmed children on the streets. Pepper spray, a small knife, and a collapsible staff (just in case) go into the side pockets of his backpacks. </p><p> </p><p>All of it has been strategically acquired over the months without Father’s knowledge. </p><p> </p><p>Damian slips out of his window, secure in the knowledge that Pennyworth has already checked in on him for the night. He soundlessly descends the outer wall of the manor, slides across the lawn, and scales the fence. The security sensors and cameras have been long since memorized, so not a single one catches him as he leaves the manor grounds. </p><p> </p><p>Usually Damian would take the tiny exit he found in the batcave, but Father hasn’t left for patrol yet. Right now, Robin is benched - Damian hopes he didn’t seem too unbothered by it. He fought Father on it, of course, and he’s upset (<em> someone  </em>had to save the civilians from getting shot), but it means that he gets to spend multiple long nights in the city with friends. It’s a rare treat. </p><p> </p><p>The bicycle Damian stashed across the street from the manor is easily uncovered, and from there he pedals to the nearest bus station. Once there he hides the bicycle in the shadows and fishes a quarter out of his backpack. </p><p> </p><p>If the bus is late, he wouldn’t notice - Damian left his phone at home. He never takes it on his night adventures because of the tracker. If Father or (Pennyworth help him) <em> Richard  </em>found out, they would never allow Damian out of their sights again. Then again, if it would bring Richard back to Gotham… no. The loss of freedom would be too great. </p><p> </p><p>The bus rumbles to a stop in front of the bench Damian has been waiting on. He drops the quarter in the fare box and nods to the driver before sitting in the very back, next to the window. July - it’s on her nametag - is always the person driving the night bus, and she and Damian have a silent understanding. They don’t speak to each other, and she has never once questioned why a preteen is on the bus alone so late. It’s a quiet alliance that Damian values. </p><p> </p><p>There’s only one other person on the bus, and they’re someone Damian recognizes - the tattoo on their pale cheek is unmistakable. Like July, he has a quiet alliance with them not to interact, save for that one exception when the bus broke down and Damian calmed them from a panic attack. Afterwards, they sat quietly and shared a bag of dried fruit. It was a one time deal, though. </p><p> </p><p>As the bus makes its way to the city, Damian kicks his feet up on the seat in front of him and pulls his piece-book out of his backpack. There’s a space he’s been casing during patrol, and he thinks it will do well for something subtle. Now he just has to figure out exactly what he’s going to paint. He has some ideas, of course, but none of them feel right as he flips through his concept art. </p><p> </p><p>The bus halts at Damian’s stop in Crime Alley before he can figure out what to paint.  He huffs as he slips the piece-book back into his backpack and gets up. July shares another cursory nod as Damian disembarks the bus, and he inhales the crisp Gotham air as he steps onto the sidewalk. It smells cleaner than usual tonight. Damian checks that he has everything on him, slips his knife into his sleeve <em> just in case </em>, and sets off towards his secret base. </p><p> </p><p>The usual nightlife is scattered across the streets. The neighborhood he’s in isn’t the best, even by Crime Alley’s standards, but it does the job. Most of the people ignore Damian, not glancing twice at a lone kid on the streets. Those that look at him for too long are easily deterred by a quick flash of the knife in his sleeve. They’re either smart enough to tell that he’s not someone to mess with, or they are simply looking for someone not willing to fight back. </p><p> </p><p>Only two working girls ask him if he needs a phone, and they’re easily sidestepped. Damian is fully aware that - should he need assistance - they are trustworthy enough to approach. This is Todd’s territory, after all, and he made sure to inform Damian that the girls here are under his protection, and that they can help. </p><p> </p><p>Not that Damian will ever <em> need  </em>to put that information to use, but it’s good to know. </p><p> </p><p>A night market paves the way to the secret base. Damian slips through the crowded street, ducking around pickpocketers, shoppers, and rowdy groups. The aromas mixing in the air make him glace appreciatively at some of the food stands, but he refrains from making any purchases. Damian steps between two stands, one selling clay figurines and the other selling barbeque, and into the narrow alley beyond. </p><p> </p><p>The secret base’s entrance is at the end of the narrow alley, under a pile of old wood and rubble. Damian suspects the shack it once built was destroyed by Scarecrow, based on empty fear gas canisters he found in the pile. It’s part of why he chose this place - people in Crime Alley tend to avoid spaces that have been destroyed by Rogues. Or they just don’t care enough to clean it up. </p><p> </p><p>Damian glances towards the brightly lit market, and once he’s sure no one is watching, he lifts a wood board to reveal a hidden hatch. He opens it and quickly descends the ladder, letting the hatch shut over him and plunging him into darkness.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, well, well.” Light floods the small space. “Look who’s late.”</p><p> </p><p>Damian scoffs as he steps off the last rung. “I arrived exactly on time.”</p><p> </p><p>“Like I said,” Colin says from where he’s perched on an old oil drum, “late.”</p><p> </p><p>“You call it late, I call it strategic timing.” Damian shrugs off his backpack and drops it by the ladder, then breathes in the stale air of the room. It’s small, but he’s made it his own. </p><p> </p><p>When he stumbled across this old bomb shelter, it was dark and full of expired food cans, ratty mattresses, rubble, and cobwebs. Now, it’s lit by fairy lights and a bulb hanging from the ceiling, and Damian has found enough furnishings to make it livable. There’s a circle rug on the floor and a cot in the shallow alcove in the far wall. The shelves lining the side walls are stocked with non-perishables, first aid supplies, and many, many spray-paint cans. The oil drum Colin is sitting on is a makeshift table flanked by a stool and mismatched tools. </p><p> </p><p>“Strategic timing - has anyone told you you’re pretentious?”</p><p> </p><p>Damian flashes him a grin. “Once or twice.”</p><p> </p><p>Colin rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. He hops off of the drum and comes up to Damian to perform the greeting handshake that Colin insisted they create.</p><p> </p><p>They slap each other’s hands twice - forward and back, fist bump, then a light punch to each other’s shoulders before knocking their wrists together.</p><p> </p><p>“So, any ideas for tonight?” Colin asks, passing Damian to kneel by his backpack. Damian peruses his color selection as his friend unzips the backpack to remove his piece-book and flip through it. </p><p> </p><p>“A few,” Damian mutters. He stops by a row of pristine cans. “These weren’t here last time.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hm? Oh, yeah, Mae dropped those off yesterday. Did I not text you?”</p><p> </p><p>“You did not.”</p><p> </p><p>“My bad. But yeah, she figured you might like some pastels.”</p><p> </p><p>Damian hums and picks up one of the cans. It’s good quality, and the seal is still intact. He needs to find a way to pay back Mae for all of this - she was the one who got him his first good cans, after all, and ‘showed him the ropes,’ as she would say. All unprompted, might Damian add. She simply saw him using the remaining paint from discarded cans to try and tag an overpass leg and decided to take him under her wing. </p><p> </p><p>Not that he needed her to, but… he has to admit that Mae has been helpful. Dare Damian say that she’s an older-sister-figure in his life--if older-sister-figures have pastimes of running from cops, swearing profusely, and picking fights every other night.</p><p> </p><p>“Is she going to be joining us tonight?” Damian asks, putting the can back.</p><p> </p><p>Colin clicks his tongue. “Nope. Dunno what exactly she said… something about giving an abusive dickhead a piece of her mind.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sounds right.” Damian pauses as he reaches for a can with a green cap, an idea flickering to life in the back of his mind.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I know that look,” Colin says teasingly. “Are you finally going to do that ‘Fuck Batman’ piece?”</p><p> </p><p>“Actually, I’m thinking of something more… passive aggressive.”</p><p> </p><p>“I like the sound of that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, I’m thinking of doing something for Green Lantern.”</p><p> </p><p>Colin lets out a bark of laughter. “Oh, man, your dad is gonna <em> hate  </em>that.”</p><p> </p><p>Not for the first time tonight, Damian is glad he vented to Colin about his unjust benching after school. If anything, Colin is even more on board than usual for tonight’s adventure.</p><p> </p><p>“Where are you gonna put it?” Colin asks, standing up and dusting his jeans off. He joins Damian in inspecting cans for the right shades of green.</p><p> </p><p>“I was thinking about an alley we regularly find ourselves in. It’s out of the way, but with luck, Father will see it within a few days.” Damian wishes he could see his father’s face when he sees it, but maybe Damian can hack into the cowl footage to check if he even notices. If he’s <em> really  </em>lucky, Father will make the irritated huff he always does when Jordan is involved.</p><p> </p><p>“How brightly lit is it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not very.”</p><p> </p><p>Colin nods and takes two uplights from the bottom shelf to put in his own backpack. They fill their respective packs with paint cans, snacks, and some miscellaneous supplies that they may or may not need.</p><p> </p><p>“Ready?” Damian asks once they have their backpacks shouldered. Once Colin nods, he ascends the ladder and wriggles out of the rubble pile. He holds up the hatch for Colin to get through, then they make their way out of the night market. They slip into the streets unnoticed and begin the journey to the chosen alley.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a longer walk than normal, but Colin is more than happy to recount his latest shenanigans at the orphanage. Damian is more than happy to listen as they walk, and he peppers in sarcastic comments when he feels the need to. Their friendship is an easy one - they understand each other, Damian thinks. Colin doesn’t mind that he’s a little… off. </p><p> </p><p>The path to the alley is a twisting one, full of backpedals and wide arcs to avoid spots with higher criminal activity. There’s no reason to put Colin in unnecessary danger - though, he <em> can  </em>take care of himself if needed. Abuse is a formidable foe on the battlefield. Still, the avoidance also lowers the chance of being spotted by nosy vigilantes. </p><p> </p><p>The path <em> also  </em>takes them within view of The Piece, as Damian has dubbed it in his head. </p><p> </p><p>It covers the side of the tallest building in the East End and is visible from the street and the surrounding buildings. It was Damian’s first serious piece, born from raw grief and aching loss. </p><p> </p><p>The city tried to wipe it off of the concrete, but after a week straight of Damian repainting the buffed parts, the workers gave up. In the months afterwards, The Piece became a source of hope in Gotham and is beloved by the citizens. Lights were even installed to keep it in stark view all night. </p><p> </p><p>The brilliant splash of blues stands proud for all to see.</p><p> </p><p>Colin quiets down as they pass by, and Damian swallows the familiar ache in his chest that comes whenever he sees it. The pain is dulled by the knowledge that Richard is alive and well in Blüdhaven, but it’s still there. That kind of hurt never goes away, Damian has learned. </p><p> </p><p>By the time they reach the spot he’s chosen, the image of what Damian wants to paint is vivid in his mind. He spent the last stretch of the journey telling Colin about his idea and received helpful commentary, and they’ve settled on the perfect concept. </p><p> </p><p>Colin sets up the lights under the blank wall, out of sight from the streets and hidden from curious strangers peeking out of their windows. Damian starts taking cans out of their backpacks and arranges them in color order. </p><p> </p><p>“Fruit gummy?” Colin offers, holding out a small packet as Damian dons his face mask and makes sure his beanie is adequately placed. The dark curls sticking out from under the brim and covering his forehead attribute to masking his identity.</p><p> </p><p>Damian shakes his head, and Colin shrugs as if to say ‘suit yourself.’ He sits with his back to the opposing wall and pulls out his phone as Damian gets to work. </p><p> </p><p>The first sprays, in Damian’s opinion, aren’t the most important. He’s just lining the basic shape of the piece, and any mistakes can be easily fixed. The details will come much later, when he’ll put every ounce of focus into what he’s doing. For now he lets Colin play music from his phone and indulges him in idle chatter. </p><p> </p><p>It only takes ten minutes for their first spectator to arrive.</p><p> </p><p>Damian pauses in the act of painting a large green blob to turn and look at the top of the brick wall Colin is leaning against. A street kid is settling down with a bag of chips. Damian recognizes her - she’s one of the regulars that watches him. She winks at him from under a mop of coily pink hair, and Damian rolls his eyes and goes back to work. He ignores how Colin chirps a greeting. </p><p> </p><p>The first few times someone stopped to watch Damian work, he was understandably irritated. He doesn’t like it when people watch him paint, draw, or graffiti (Colin as the exception), so he chased them off. </p><p> </p><p>But then they came back. With others.</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes the spectators try to strike up conversation. A few of them give him tips, like Mae. One or two came to criticize him and tried to drive him away, and they left with wounded egos and limbs. Damian was - and is - not one to be cowed by those that think he’s too ‘young’ or ‘inexperienced’ to make it in the graffiti world.</p><p> </p><p>Now, who has the giant, lit-up mural again?</p><p> </p><p>Damian hasn’t even finished the preliminary stage of the Green Lantern piece before three more spectators join in. One of them - Daniel, Damian hears him say - sits next to Colin, and they start chatting. Pink-hair gets a friend up on the wall, and the last one simply leans against the wall and watches Damian. She doesn’t seem to mean ill, but the feeling Damian is getting off of her isn’t particularly friendly. </p><p> </p><p>“Do your parents know you’re out here?” she asks a few minutes later.</p><p> </p><p>Oh, great. She’s one of <em> those </em>.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t see how that’s your problem,” Damian replies plainly. He switches out cans for a dark green to begin cleaning up the image and adding basic colors. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s not,” she says with a shrug. Only a couple of seconds pass before she speaks again. “I’m just curious.”</p><p> </p><p>“And I’m trying to focus.”</p><p> </p><p>“All I’m saying is this is no place for a kid-”</p><p> </p><p>Damian pauses to snap at her, but to his surprise Pink-hair speaks up from the wall.</p><p> </p><p>“Girl, shut up and let him work! You’re killin’ the vibe.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really,” Daniel adds, “if you came here to rag on our guy, then you’re in the wrong company.” </p><p> </p><p>Colin grins at Damian, who is trying <em> extremely  </em>hard not to feel pleased.</p><p> </p><p>“What, I can’t have an opinion?” the intruder says defensively, crossing her arms.</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, fam,” the kid next to Pink-hair chirps, “not when you’re ragging on my favorite street artist.”</p><p> </p><p>Damian is officially failing in his effort to not feel pleased. He raises an eyebrow at the intruder, his smirk hidden by his mask, and she scowls.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine,” she huffs. “I was just trying to be nice.”</p><p> </p><p>Colin and the spectators cheer as she leaves, and they snicker as she throws up a middle finger at them before turning the corner.</p><p> </p><p>“Good fuckin’ riddance,” Piercings (the kid next to Pink-hair) says.</p><p> </p><p>Damian slowly blinks at them as a silent thank you. He gets various replies - finger guns, a peace sign, and a shrug. </p><p> </p><p>“Seriously, thanks for that,” Colin says. “It means a lot to him -” he shoots Damian a meaningful look, “-not that he’d ever say that out loud. He’s allergic to feelings.”</p><p> </p><p>Daniel snorts. “Oh, mood.”</p><p> </p><p>Damian scoffs - <em> scoffs </em> , he does not <em> laugh </em>- and goes back to graffitiing. This time, though, he keeps his hearing tuned in to the conversation behind him. Colin, of course, asks them for their names like the social butterfly he is.</p><p> </p><p>Daniel re-introduces himself. Pink-hair turns out to be ‘Xena’, and Piercings is ‘Finley.’ All three of them are young teens, like Damian and Colin. </p><p> </p><p>Normally, Damian would let himself forget their names, but this time he makes sure to memorize them. They defended his honor, completely unprompted. That is not something he takes lightly.</p><p> </p><p>It also turns out that all of them (save Daniel) have watched Damian work nearly every time he’s snuck out to Gotham. For some reason, the fact doesn’t make him feel like he’s being stalked. It just makes him feel like he has more allies in this dark world.</p><p> </p><p>“Whoah, wait a sec,” Xena gasps. “Is that <em> Green Lantern?” </em></p><p> </p><p>Damian stops shading Jordan’s ring to turn around and raise an eyebrow at her. “Is that not obvious?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s pretty obvious,” Daniel agrees as Finley nods.</p><p> </p><p>“How many fully green heroes are there?” Colin asks teasingly.</p><p> </p><p>Xena scoffs and crosses her legs. “Alright, I get it. Could’ve been Green Arrow or somethin’...”</p><p> </p><p>“Green Arrow,” Damian says, going back to his art, “is not worth my time.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oooh,” Daniel crows, “we’ve got an Arrow hater here!”</p><p> </p><p>“To be fair, he’s kind of lame,” Colin says.</p><p> </p><p>Finley snorts. “You’re right on that. I mean, what’s his superpower? Accurately shooting arrows? That’ll do jack when he runs out.”</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, I never said I’m an Arrow fan,” Daniel says.</p><p> </p><p>“Me neither,” Xena agrees. “I’m Red Hood all the way.”</p><p> </p><p>Damian almost sprays a black line across his piece. </p><p> </p><p>“Not Robin?” Colin asks all too innocently.</p><p> </p><p>“Reprobate,” Damian mutters under his breath.</p><p> </p><p>“Robin is cool and all,” Xena says, “but he’s never saved my life. Plus, this ain’t his turf.”</p><p> </p><p>“Red Hood saved your life?” Finley gasps.</p><p> </p><p>“Yep. It was so badass, too, he just swooped in, guns blazing, like <em> pew pew pew </em>-”</p><p> </p><p>This is where Damian tunes them back out. He did not come here to listen to acquaintances gush about his older siblings. At least they aren’t Red Robin fans.</p><p> </p><p>The Green Lantern piece is around halfway complete. It’s not Damian’s most elaborate work of art, but it will do the job. The piece shows Jordan from the waist up, with his eyes closed and his hands held in front of his chest. Between them floats the ring, and when Damian is done it will be casting a soft but effective glow. </p><p> </p><p>Although he still thinks Hal Jordan is a fool, he thinks this is going to look beautiful when it’s done.</p><p> </p><p>At some point Colin comes over to crouch next to him and offers a chip. After a moment’s hesitation, Damian takes it and briefly lowers his mask to eat it.</p><p> </p><p>“Lookin’ good, bro!” Xena yells.</p><p> </p><p>Colin gives her a thumbs up as Damian nods. The basic picture is done, and it just needs details. </p><p> </p><p>“What time is it?” Damian asks as he sorts through his cans for the right shade.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh…” Colin checks his phone. “A little after twelve.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s been over three hours, then. Damian never expected this to take long, so he isn’t surprised - this piece isn’t exactly a large one. </p><p> </p><p>“Why, got a curfew?” Daniel asks. </p><p> </p><p>“Not technically, no,” Damian says. He plucks a pale green from the color lineup, notes that it’s one of the pastels Mae got him, and starts on the ring’s glow. </p><p> </p><p>“Someone’s sneaking out,” Finley sings.</p><p> </p><p>“Who’s sneaking out?” asks a new voice.</p><p> </p><p>Damian freezes. Oh… <em> fuck. </em></p><p> </p><p>He’s not supposed to be in Gotham for another week.</p><p> </p><p>“Um… no one,” Daniel says.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh-huh.” Richard - or Nightwing, rather - clicks his tongue. “I take it you were talking to your little artist friend here.”</p><p> </p><p>No, they were not, <em> go away </em>. Damian locks eyes with Colin, who seems equally as panicked. This won’t end well.</p><p> </p><p>Damian tenses up even more as he senses his brother stand behind him. He just <em> knows  </em>Richard is doing the ‘crossed arms and sternly amused’ look.</p><p> </p><p>“This isn’t your territory, ‘Wing,” Xena yells. The tension in their cramped alley is rising, and it feels violent. It seems that Damian’s new acquaintances either don’t like Nightwing, are easily provoked, or they’re itching for a fight. </p><p> </p><p>“Hood asked me to cover for him,” Richard says nonchalantly. “There’ve been some kidnappings in this area, and he asked me to make sure kids get somewhere safe. So, why don’t I get you guys home, k?”</p><p> </p><p>Damian senses him reach for his shoulder, and makes a split second decision.</p><p> </p><p>He whips around and chucks the canister in his hand as hard as possible. It strikes Richard square in the face, and he stumbles back with a curse. </p><p> </p><p>At the same time, Finley screams, “SCATTER!”</p><p> </p><p>They explode into motion. </p><p> </p><p>Damian and Colin scramble over the brick wall a second after Daniel, the other two having already jumped down to the other side. They hit the ground in a dead sprint. All five of them run as fast as they can, even as Richard yells after them to come back.</p><p> </p><p>Outrunning Nightwing will be a challenge, Damian knows for certain. His heart is pounding with anxiety - what if they’re caught? Richard won’t allow this to continue, ‘for Damian’s own safety.’ He’ll tell Father, and then Damian will be trapped. Cut off. Damian can’t allow that to happen, and he lets that fear fuel his relentless pace.</p><p> </p><p>“This way!” he yells as Xena and Finley skid to a stop at a dead end. They whip around and follow as Damian leads the group down a different alley. He’s patrolled this area enough times to know where he’s going - mostly. Everything looks incredibly different from a ground view, and Damian can hear his brother gaining on them. He’s yelling at them to slow down and that they’re going to get themselves hurt.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re not gonna outrun him,” Colin pants.</p><p> </p><p>...Or are they?</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Damian says between controlled gasps, “we are.”</p><p> </p><p>A block away lays the most convoluted parking garage Damian has ever been in. It’s let parkouring robbers and slippery muggers escape their capture multiple times. There, they can split up, and Richard will either have to choose one of them or give up.</p><p> </p><p>Daniel seems to recognize where they’re headed, as he laughs breathlessly and runs faster. He shoots Damian a grin, and Damian finds himself grinning back.</p><p> </p><p>“Oho, yeah!” Xena whoops as the garage comes into sight. “I love this place!”</p><p> </p><p>They charge in through the front entrance. The inside is a maze of walls, different levels, and random staircases. There isn’t a single elevator, and the whole structure is shaped like a giant spiral.</p><p> </p><p>Richard yells, “Oh no you don’t!” as they run across the first empty parking space. Their footsteps echo in the abandoned building, falling in tandem with ragged breaths. </p><p> </p><p>Damian’s heart is still pounding, but now, looking at his friends’ grins and sharing the energy buzzing between them all, it’s pounding in <em> excitement.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Damian Wayne-Al-Ghul is having <em> fun. </em></p><p> </p><p>The first railing comes up, and they vault over it to drop to the next level. Xena yips as she jumps across a gap, and Colin adds in his own whoop as he swings through another railing. Damian pushes off of a ledge, grabs across a pipe running along the ceiling, and swings across the gap. </p><p> </p><p>“What is <em> with  </em>you kids?” Richard cries. “Who taught you this stuff? Seriously, slow down!”</p><p> </p><p>Damian glances over his shoulder to see his brother following effortlessly, as expected. They’re going to have to do better. Damian whistles sharply as they tear across another empty stretch of pavement. Once he has his friends’ attention, he makes an exploding motion with his hands.</p><p> </p><p>“Gotcha!” Daniel barks. Right as they turn the corner, Richard drops down out of nowhere. Finley yelps and slips to the floor. For a moment Damian thinks they simply fell, but then they slide between Richard’s legs and scramble up on the other side to continue sprinting. </p><p> </p><p>“Wha-?” Richard yelps, whipping around. Damian grins and uses his brother’s shoulders as a springboard to leap over him. Richard stumbles and yelps again, “Hey!”</p><p> </p><p>Damian can’t help a mischievous snicker as he hits the ground in a roll, jumps back up, and wall-climbs to the above level. He can hear whooping and the sound of shoes hitting metal and concrete all around him, and it’s invigorating. It instills a sense of unity he rarely feels.</p><p> </p><p>“Keep up, Nightwing!” Xena yells from somewhere below. Laughs echo through the empty lot, and Damian doesn’t hesitate in adding his own amused snort.</p><p> </p><p>He thinks he hears an irritated grumble from somewhere behind him, but he doesn’t slow down or check. Damian vaults a railing, swings around without letting go, and descends two levels in rapid succession. He drops to the ground and sees a flash of orange before Colin slams into him with a startled yelp. They fall in a tangle of limbs.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Colin, </em>” Damian hisses, struggling to get back up.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, I didn’t see you there -”</p><p> </p><p>“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Damian manages to untangle himself, and he hauls Colin to his feet right as a flash of blue enters the corner of his vision. “Shit, go!”</p><p> </p><p>Colin pushes him forward, as if he hadn’t been lying face-first on the ground a second ago and Damian is the slow one. They split up at a staircase, which Damian climbs while his friend takes a sharp right.</p><p> </p><p>“I just want to talk!” Richard yells from behind Damian.</p><p> </p><p>Damian swears under his breath and forces himself to ascend the steps faster. He swings through a railing on a higher level and sprints for the edge. If he’s correct - and he usually is - then there’s a construction site dead ahead. He’ll have to think fast unless he wants to end up as a Robin-pancake, but this is the only way to lose Richard. </p><p> </p><p>The low wall separating the garage from open air approaches quickly, and Damian forces his legs to pump faster.</p><p> </p><p>Richard must catch on, as he cries, “No, wait! Stop!”</p><p> </p><p>Damian jumps onto the wall and leaps off without losing speed, and then he’s falling through open air. The wind snatches away whatever his brother yells, and Damian is wholly focused on the path ahead.</p><p> </p><p>There’s half of the foundation for a wall below him. His shoes just barely tap the metal before he’s pushing off and reaching for the arm of a lowered crane. He swings off, hits a walkway board at a roll, jumps over the side, and scales down the foundation wall. The dirt puffs up under his shoes as he lands on solid ground, and he sprints for the main construction area.</p><p> </p><p>Not a sound disturbs the dark insides of the building’s skeleton. Damian ducks under a tarp and tries to quiet his gasping breaths. He peeks under the edge of the tarp to check if the coast is clear.</p><p> </p><p>Richard runs into the area and jogs to a stop. He turns in a circle and curses, running a hand through his hair. He mutters something too quiet for Damian to make out, and to his relief, Richard walks back out the way he came. A moment later there’s the familiar hiss of a grapple firing, and silence falls once again. </p><p> </p><p>Damian waits for a full minute before crawling out from under the tarp. He jumps as something rustles across the dirt path, but it’s just Colin, who had been similarly hidden. To further Damian’s surprise, Daniel, Xena, and Finley step out from behind wooden stacks and boxes.</p><p> </p><p>The five of them stare at each other in shock, the heavy silence of the vast construction site broken only by their uneven breaths.</p><p> </p><p>“Holy shit,” Xena breathes, and they break down.</p><p> </p><p>Damian takes off his face mask and presses the back of his hand to his grin as he doubles over, shaking from the force of his laughter. He’s fairly certain he’s never laughed this hard or openly in his life. Later, he might blame it on the rush of exhilaration and giddy relief at their narrow escape.</p><p> </p><p>“O-oh man,” Colin gasps between cackles, “I’m gonna pass out!”</p><p> </p><p>“We just -” Finley snorts, which sets them all off even harder, “-we just out-parkoured <em> Nightwing!” </em></p><p> </p><p>Damian loses his balance and falls over, and Colin points at him, laughing so hard that he’s not making noise. Damian can’t find it in himself to be annoyed. He just clutches his middle as he rolls onto his side, howling.</p><p> </p><p>Each time they begin to quiet, one of them starts laughing again or they make eye-contact, which sets them back at square one. It takes them nearly five minutes to calm down. </p><p> </p><p>If Damian could, he’d tease his brother for the next <em> year  </em>about this. He’s still somewhat shocked that they managed to get away. Richard must have been going easy on them, or he was off his game tonight. </p><p> </p><p>“The look on his face when you slid under him,” Daniel says to Finley once he regains his composure, “was <em> priceless.” </em></p><p> </p><p>Finley preens. “That was pretty cool, huh? Though not as cool as you -” they nod to Damian, “-using him as a springboard.”</p><p> </p><p>“Now <em> that  </em>was badass,” Colin says. He comes over to Damian and helps him up, a teasing glimmer in his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t expect to run into a vigilante tonight,” Xena says, “but I gotta say that I am <em> not  </em>disappointed.”</p><p> </p><p>Daniel grins and lightly punches Damian’s shoulder. “I guess we’ll have to hang around you more, then.”</p><p> </p><p>“Tt, me?” Damian scoffs.</p><p> </p><p>“Hell yeah,” Finley says. “You got us in <em> and </em>out of that mess. That, and your art is bangin’, which I already knew.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your art!” Colin gasps. “No - your stuff!”</p><p> </p><p>Damian could slap himself. All of his gear is out in the open for anyone to take. He curses under his breath in Arabic, and he sets off at a jog. </p><p> </p><p>“Nightwing won’t be waiting for us, right?” Colin asks as he follows.</p><p> </p><p>“I doubt it,” Xena replies.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s probably still looking for us,” Daniel adds.</p><p> </p><p>That’s exactly what Richard is likely doing. Damian doesn’t think he’ll circle back around, if at all. </p><p> </p><p>Luck is truly on their side tonight when they get back to the Green Lantern piece. Everything is exactly as it was left, from the can Damian threw to the spilled bag of chips. He supposes he did the correct thing in choosing this alley.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you gonna finish it?” Finley asks.</p><p> </p><p>Damian hums. He could. Then again, he could come back another day, but someone might destroy it by then. Unfinished works are more likely to be ruined than finished pieces. If Richard comes back again, Damian will simply have to fight him, or they’ll try and run and see if their luck will hold. </p><p> </p><p>“I might as well,” he says, and his friends cheer.</p><p> </p><p>Damian doesn’t fight the smile that crosses his lips. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p>
<ul>
<li><b>⤘⤘⤘    -</b></li>
</ul><p> </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“That’s… really impressive,” Daniel says, awe in his tone.</p><p> </p><p>They’re all gathered around the finished piece, and Damian stands proudly in the center of the group. </p><p> </p><p>“Have you never seen his stuff before?” Finley asks. </p><p> </p><p>“Nope. First time.”</p><p> </p><p>“You should see his Nightwing mural.”</p><p> </p><p>“He has a - you have a Nightwing mural?”</p><p> </p><p>Damian shrugs. “Perhaps.”</p><p> </p><p>“You hit the guy in the face with a spray-paint can, and you made a mural of him.”</p><p> </p><p>“There’s no way you haven’t seen it,” Colin says.</p><p> </p><p>Daniel gasps. “No way. You mean the giant one? That was <em> you?” </em></p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps,” Damian repeats. </p><p> </p><p>“Dude.”</p><p> </p><p>“It was him,” Xena chirps.</p><p> </p><p>“Well,” Damian says, kneeling to begin cleaning up his supplies, “this has been an interesting night, but I should be getting home.”</p><p> </p><p>“Me too,” Colin yawns. He starts filling his backpack with cans. “I’m beat.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re going to be sore as hell tomorrow,” Xena says brightly.</p><p> </p><p>Daniel laughs as Finley says, “Oh, yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>“When are you next coming out?” Daniel asks Damian.</p><p> </p><p>“In…” Damian clicks his tongue. He should give himself at least a day’s buffer before sneaking out again. “Two days.”</p><p> </p><p>“Two days, gotcha. Where will you be?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know yet.”</p><p> </p><p>Colin stands up and shoulders his backpack. “Do you guys know where St. Aden’s Orphanage is?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Xena says as the other two nod. </p><p> </p><p>“Come by and I’ll let you know once he figures it out.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sweet. Well… I guess I’ll see you around,” Daniel says as he backs away from the group.</p><p> </p><p>They trade goodbyes, and Damian’s new friends disappear into the night. In the back of his mind he wonders where they’re going, or if they’ll be safe. He shakes off the thoughts and takes one last look at his newest piece. </p><p> </p><p>Admittedly, it is impressive. The glow coming off of the ring is soft, and it accents the dark greens perfectly. If Damian even remotely tolerated Jordan, he’d almost be willing to show it off.</p><p> </p><p>Alas, this is a revenge piece, so he simply nods, satisfied, and begins the walk back to the secret base. Colin is quiet the whole way - a testament to his exhaustion. </p><p> </p><p>Damian isn’t tired yet. He’s had much more active nights, and it’s only around one A.M. In all honesty, he’s still a little charged from the parkour escape. </p><p> </p><p>The secret base is untouched when they get there. They slowly put the cans and other supplies back on the shelves. Damian takes off his beanie and uncovers a spare change of clothes from under the cot - just in case he gets caught climbing back into his room. Sneaking back into the manor is more of a challenge than sneaking out, and he doesn’t want to be seen in his street clothes, especially if Richard is there. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m tempted to sleep here tonight,” Colin mumbles. He plucks one of the pastels off of the shelf and uncaps it. “This is a really nice yellow.”</p><p> </p><p>“Be careful with -”</p><p> </p><p>Colin’s finger slips, and paint sprays from the nozzle. Right against the side of Damian’s head.</p><p> </p><p>“-that.”</p><p> </p><p>Colin hides a hysterical bark of laughter as a snort and a cough. He recaps the can and puts it on the shelf. “Um… my bad?”</p><p> </p><p>Damian slowly turns on his heel to glare at his friend. He can feel his hair sticking up where the pressurized blast got him. </p><p> </p><p> “Wilkes,” he says slowly, “if I look in a mirror…”</p><p> </p><p>“I think I hear the nuns calling me!” Colin dodges Damian’s angry swipe as he makes a beeline for the ladder. “Bye Damian, thanks for tonight!”</p><p> </p><p>Damian doesn’t get the chance to get a single threat in before the hatch closes, leaving him alone in the base. He huffs and starts dressing in ‘normal’ clothes. He has no reflective surfaces nearby, and thus no way of knowing how much yellow paint is on the side of his face.</p><p> </p><p>It’s going to be impossible to scrub out, he already knows. The real challenge, however, is not letting his family see.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p>
<ul>
<li><b>⤘⤘⤘    -</b></li>
</ul><p> </p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>July gives him a weird look when Damian gets on the bus back to Bristol, but she doesn’t say a word. </p><p> </p><p>Damian had glanced at his reflection in shop windows on his way to the bus stop, and he has concluded that he is going to murder Colin. There’s a thick stripe of yellow paint on the right side of his face, trailing from next to his ear and up through his hair. As he suspected, his hair is standing up where the paint spray hit it. All attempts to flatten it have been futile.</p><p> </p><p>The usual seat at the back of the bus is waiting for Damian, and he gratefully sinks into the uncomfortable plastic. He unzips his backpack and starts rifling around for his phone. When Jon hears about this -</p><p> </p><p>Damian stops, all remaining energy from the night draining away.</p><p> </p><p>Right. He left his phone at the manor, not that Jon is available anyway. Damian internally berates himself for forgetting such a thing <em> again </em>, and he violently shoves away any thoughts of his former best friend. Tonight has been great. There’s no need to ruin it. </p><p> </p><p>The bus arrives at the Bristol stop sooner than Damian expected. He steps off with one last nod to July and wrestles his bicycle out of the bushes. As he pedals back home, he tries to come up with contingency plans in case he’s caught.</p><p> </p><p>When the manor comes into view, he still has no idea what he’d say. Hopefully his improvisational skills haven’t left him.</p><p> </p><p>Damian leaves his bicycle in its usual place and sneaks back onto the manor grounds. He slips across the wet grass, scanning windows for movement. When he glances at his bedroom window, he heaves a sigh and curses under his breath.</p><p> </p><p>Someone is on the upper floor, in his room - the light is on. Dammit. </p><p> </p><p>They know he’s not there, which means he has no chance of getting back to his room unnoticed. Resigning himself to his fate, Damian stashes his backpack in a bush against the manor wall and goes to the nearest side door. </p><p> </p><p>The ground floor of the manor is quiet as he steps inside. Above, he can just barely hear people moving around and muffled words. He loosens his shoulders, takes a deep breath, and walks as casually as he can towards his room. He reaches the entrance hall without problem, but of course his luck doesn’t hold. </p><p> </p><p>“Damian!” Richard gasps, jumping the last step off of the stairs and rushing over. There’s a bandage over the bridge of his nose, which Damian tries not to wince at. He hadn’t thought he threw the can <em> that  </em>hard.</p><p> </p><p>Father, Drake, and Thomas appear at the top of the stairs and start hurrying down as well. </p><p> </p><p>“Damian, where have you been?” Father demands.</p><p> </p><p>“I went up to your room to surprise you, but you weren’t there,” Richard says, kneeling in front of Damian. “You scared the hell out of us, kiddo.”</p><p> </p><p>“I thought I saw Titus outside,” Damian says, the lie rolling off of his tongue. He only feels mildly bad about worrying his brother. “I wanted to make sure he was alright.”</p><p> </p><p>“Titus is asleep in the lounge,” Thomas says. Next to him, Drake crosses his arms as he raises an eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>“Well… warn someone next time.” Richard pulls Damian into his arms, and Damian melts into the hug. It’s been nearly a month since he’s last seen his brother, and the parkour chase wasn’t quite an ideal reunion. “It’s good to see you, Dami.”</p><p> </p><p>“I hadn’t known you were coming back today,” Damian mumbles into his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>Richard laughs softly. “That’s the whole point of a surprise.”</p><p> </p><p>“Damian,” Father rumbles.</p><p> </p><p>Damian reluctantly steps out of the embrace. “Yes, Father?”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s on your face?”</p><p> </p><p>There it is. Now is the moment where Damian pulls a plausible and convincing lie out of thin air. In his mind, he has the perfect coverup and execution. He’ll deliver it with poise, and as the son of Batman, he shall fool them all.</p><p> </p><p>Damian blinks. “What do you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>Internally, he slaps himself.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve got yellow paint all over your face,” Drake deadpans.</p><p> </p><p>Damian sends him his best quizzical look. “I don’t know what you mean.”</p><p> </p><p>“Dude,” Thomas snorts. “Don’t tell us you literally have no idea.”</p><p> </p><p>It turns out the only cost of nights of freedom is Damian’s dignity.</p><p> </p><p>“I think I’d know if I had paint on my face.” He turns his scowl on Drake. “Is this one of your pranks?”</p><p> </p><p>“What? No. I’m not big on getting stabbed. Again.”</p><p> </p><p>To be fair, Damian doesn’t want to stab any of his siblings anymore. If anything, Drake would get punched. </p><p> </p><p>“What happened to your nose?” Damian deflects, tilting his head at Richard.</p><p> </p><p>“This?” Richard lightly brushes his fingertip along the bandage. “Eh, it’s nothing. Some kid hit me with a spray-paint can.”</p><p> </p><p>Behind him, Drake narrows his eyes. Knowing him, he’s already on to Damian, but he has no proof, so there’s no reason to worry.</p><p> </p><p>“Tt. If you let a street urchin land a hit on you, then it’s a good thing you came back to Gotham, where we can pick up your slack.”</p><p> </p><p>Richard barks a laugh and stands up, ruffling Damian’s hair as he does so. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”</p><p> </p><p>Feather steps forward to squeeze Damian’s shoulder and murmur, “Go back to sleep, Damian. Take a shower first, though.”</p><p> </p><p>Yet again, Damian feigns confusion. “I still do not know what you’re all referring to.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’ll see it when you look in a mirror,” Thomas says. He thinks he’s being stealthy as he angles his phone to snap a picture. Damian can’t even move to hide the paint, or he’ll be discovered.</p><p> </p><p>The price of his dignity indeed.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p>
<ul>
<li><b>⤘⤘⤘    -</b></li>
</ul><p> </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>It takes three handfuls of shampoo and nearly thirty minutes of vicious scrubbing to rid Damian’s hair of paint. There’s still a faint yellow tinge to a few strands and on some of his skin, but it will have to do.</p><p> </p><p>He steps out of the bathroom, dressed in his most comfortable pajama pants and a hoodie he stole from Todd. Oh, and the ridiculous fuzzy socks Brown got him for his birthday.</p><p> </p><p>“How long did it take you to get the paint out?” Richard asks. He’s reclined on Damian’s bed with his legs over the side.</p><p> </p><p>Damian just scoffs a ‘tt’ in response and lies next to him. They spend a whole minute of comfortable silence before Richard speaks.</p><p> </p><p>“So… you got benched.”</p><p> </p><p>“Unfairly, yes,” Damian mutters.</p><p> </p><p>“No, not unfairly. You disobeyed a direct order and put yourself in unnecessary danger.”</p><p> </p><p>“It wasn’t <em> unnecessary.”  </em></p><p> </p><p>“Dames,” Richard sighs. “How many times have we had this conversation?”</p><p> </p><p>Damian scowls and glares harder at the ceiling, trying to ignore the squirming feeling in his stomach that always comes with disappointing his Batman.</p><p> </p><p>“I just… I wish you’d stop taking risks like that. If it takes benching to drill into your stubborn head that your life matters… then I’m all for it. For as long as it takes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Even if it takes forever?”</p><p> </p><p>Richard sits up to frown down at him. Even worse, it’s his ‘hurt and concerned’ frown, which makes Damian feel even more terrible.</p><p> </p><p>“You do know I can’t lose you again, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Damian nods.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, and you know every time you almost get yourself killed it scares the <em> shit </em>out of Bruce. And me. And the rest of the family.”</p><p> </p><p>“Drake might -”</p><p> </p><p>“Tim loves you too, so that won’t work.”</p><p> </p><p>Damian huffs and sits up as well. “Fine. Yes, I know.”</p><p> </p><p>“Alright then.” Richard smiles, but it’s small and holds a firm edge. “Stop throwing yourself into danger.”</p><p> </p><p>“I…” He can’t promise anything. Damian will never stop, not when there’s something he can <em> do </em>, but he says, “I will try.”</p><p> </p><p>Richard heaves a sigh. “That’s as good as it’s gonna get, isn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Probably.” Damian smiles as he’s pulled into the second hug of the evening. He still thinks that Richard gives the best hugs in the family, though he’d never admit that. He wants to preserve some modicum of a reputation. That doesn’t stop Damian from relaxing and letting the embrace go on for much longer than he’d usually allow. </p><p> </p><p>“So,” Damian says conversationally, “did you really get hit with… what was it… a spray-paint can, or were you lying?”</p><p> </p><p>Richard snorts and pulls away. “Oh, I was dead serious.</p><p> </p><p>Damian raises a dubious eyebrow. “Really?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, it was insane. I saw these kids hanging out, and one of them was graffitiing a wall - which was of Green Lantern, by the way. Man, B is gonna have an aneurysm when he sees it.”</p><p> </p><p>Damian struggles to not let it show how pleased he is by that.</p><p> </p><p>“Anyway, I go up to them, since it’s late and they’re in a pretty dangerous part of Crime Alley -”</p><p> </p><p>“So it wasn’t the graffiti that was the problem,” Damian interrupts. He internally curses himself for pushing his luck, but Richard doesn’t seem suspicious as he barrels on.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh no, of course not. Have you seen the giant mural of me? Nope, I do not mind at all.”</p><p> </p><p>Damian really hopes his blush isn’t visible. He knows his family appreciates The Piece - though <em> some  </em>of them complained that they don’t have ones of their own. Which Damian might rectify. If he feels like it, and if no one gets on his bad side.</p><p> </p><p>“But yeah, so I tried to be nice, y’know,” Richard continues, “and this kid just whammies me with the can he’s holding! Just like that! I hear one of the kids yell ‘scatter’ like that one John Mulaney bit, and they all do. They book it outta there like I’m a rogue.”</p><p> </p><p>Damian had thought the way Finley yelled was familiar. Curse Brown and her need to make him watch those ridiculous comedy segments.</p><p> </p><p>(They’re not funny. They’re <em> not. </em>)</p><p> </p><p>Richard laughs again. “Man, those kids could <em> run.” </em></p><p> </p><p>“I’m shocked you didn’t catch them,” Damian says before he can stop himself. Hopefully Richard had mentioned that he hadn’t been able to catch the ‘street kids.’</p><p> </p><p>“You have too much faith in me, kiddo.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe so.”</p><p> </p><p>Richard raises an eyebrow at him. He seems like he’s about to say something unrelated to the current topic, but all he does is shake his head. “So… where was I… oh, so they lead me on this chase for the next few blocks that ended at a parking garage - the really weird one by that construction site.”</p><p> </p><p>His wording is vague, but Damian nods like he recognizes the description.</p><p> </p><p>“The weirdest part of this whole story is that all five of them knew parkour. And they were crazy good, too.”</p><p> </p><p>Damian has to agree - it <em> was </em>odd that he found himself surrounded by capable street kids. A bubble of warmth grows in his chest at the praise.</p><p> </p><p>“They were flipping off of stuff, jumping levels, oh -” Richard grins and lightly hits Damian’s arm with the back of his hand, “two of the kids pulled a crazy stunt. I dropped down in front of them to cut them off, and the first one slid right under me! And before I can react, the other one uses me as their personal springboard!”</p><p> </p><p>Damian snorts, and hopes it comes across as amusement at the story. In a way, it is. The look on Richard’s face had been, as Daniel put it, <em> priceless. </em></p><p> </p><p>Richard’s grin grows. “Right? I almost fell on my face. They split up after that, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t catch up to any of them. I almost got a pair, but they separated too quickly for me to grab them. Though,” he adds, “I gotta say that one of them looked like Colin.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wilkes?” Damian says. He clicks his tongue. “I doubt it - he’s not exactly the most adventurous person.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s a bold-faced lie. Colin may have some prominent fears, but he’s <em> Abuse, </em>which automatically makes him the opposite of a shut-in. But Richard doesn’t need to know that.</p><p> </p><p>Richard shrugs. “Still, could you ask him for me? I’m curious.”</p><p> </p><p>“I will contact him,” Damian promises. “Now, continue?”</p><p> </p><p>“Liking the story?”</p><p> </p><p>“Something like that.”</p><p> </p><p>Richard bumps their shoulders together and continues. “Alright, so I go after the graffiti kid. Mainly because he almost broke my nose, but that’s besides the point. I chased him up a couple flights of stairs, and he books it to the edge.” His face loses a touch of color and he presses his lips together. “The kid just <em> leapt off.  </em>I nearly had a heart attack.”</p><p> </p><p>This time, Damian can’t withhold a wince. He hadn’t even thought about what he’d done through his brother’s eyes, and now it’s clear that he shouldn’t have jumped, even  to escape capture.</p><p> </p><p>“Was h - were they alright?”</p><p> </p><p>Richard doesn’t catch the stumble as he exhales slowly. “I mean… yeah. That kid was really lucky to have something to land on. I froze, though, which was a <em> serious  </em>mistake.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s understandable,” Damian says gently. “You hadn’t expected it, nor could you know if it was safe to follow.”</p><p> </p><p>Richard draws him in for a side hug and rests his cheek on top of Damian's head. “I guess. It turned out fine, though, so no harm no foul.”</p><p> </p><p>“So you truly did not catch them in the end?”</p><p> </p><p>“I really didn’t. By the time I got down to ground level, they were gone.”</p><p> </p><p>Damian leans into his side and dares to say, “Surely you found them afterwards, though.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nope. I figured that if they tried that hard to outrun me and <em> did</em>, then they earned me backing off. Though I did circle back to where I found them as patrol ended.”</p><p> </p><p>“And?”</p><p> </p><p>Richard snorts. “The little shits finished the graffiti art and were long gone.”</p><p> </p><p>“You probably could have caught them if you went back earlier.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, well… I gotta admit that it was impressive.”</p><p> </p><p>Damian lets himself smile now that it won’t be seen. “It sounds like you had an interesting welcome-back party.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not as interesting as you mysteriously vanishing and coming back with yellow paint on your face.” Richard pauses just long enough for Damian to get nervous. The moment passes, and Richard adds, “How did that happen, exactly?”</p><p> </p><p>“I really don’t know,” Damian says. He’s dug his grave - might as well lie in it. It's not like he doesn’t have experience. “I still think it was Drake.”</p><p> </p><p>“Or maybe Duke?”</p><p> </p><p>“Impossible. We have a pact.”</p><p> </p><p>Richard laughs nervously. “That shouldn’t worry me as much as it does.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you should be worried,” Damian says briskly. He leans out of the side hug. “For no specific reason… yet.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re making me feel <em> so </em>secure.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m glad.” Damian smirks.</p><p> </p><p>They stare each other down in a silent challenge before Richard says, “C’mere, you little bastard,” and attacks.</p><p> </p><p>Damian hides a bark of laughter as an angry yell as his brother digs his fingers into Damian’s sides. He worms his way out of Richard’s grip and retaliates, and it turns into a full-on tussle. Pillows are thrown, Damian nearly reaches for the knife on his nightstand, and Richard gets kicked in the gut hard enough to make him wheeze.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, that’s it!” Richard picks up Damian, swings him around, and tosses him on the bed.</p><p> </p><p>“Grayson!” Damian yelps as he sails through the air. He bounces onto the plush mattress and leans up on his elbows to glare at his brother. Richard just grins and flops down next to him.</p><p> </p><p>“So,” he says, turning his head to direct his smile at Damian.</p><p> </p><p>“So,” Damian echoes.</p><p> </p><p>“Benched life sucks.”</p><p> </p><p>“That, we can agree on.” Damian lies back once again, but instead of glaring at the ceiling, he simply closes his eyes, content with the moment. </p><p> </p><p>“Any ideas on how to pass the time?”</p><p> </p><p>Damian thinks of the backpack hidden in the bushes outside, of the secret base he shares with Colin. Of running through a garage with excitement thrumming in his veins, of Mae and the other street kids. Of nights spent in the city, free from limitations with space to breathe and <em> create.  </em></p><p> </p><p>A wry smile crosses his face.</p><p> </p><p>“I may have a few.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was so much fun to write. I kinda wanna expand more on this little concept, but we'll see. I'm working on two other projects rn, as well as some oneshots, so I'm kinda booked.</p><p>Thank y'all for reading, comments fuel my motivation uwu.</p><p>Throw a paint can at my face @ <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/batshit-birds">Batshit-Birds</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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